


Ianto Jones fit perfectly into bullet points (abandoned WiP)

by kayliemalinza



Series: Abandoned WiPs [5]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Jack Harkness: Past Version, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2008-05-31
Updated: 2008-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack comes to remember that he's met Ianto before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ABANDONED WIP.

Ianto Jones fit perfectly into bullet points. He was capable in a fight and had good taste in coats. He possessed adequate deductive and investigative skills as exemplified in tracking down—harassing—a man who didn't exist and in assessing the dessert preferences of pterodactyls. The string of odd jobs and the minor conviction for shoplifting gave his resume a bit of sparkle. Previous experience at another branch of the franchise showed he had that indefinable and necessary quality, and though all of his references were dead, they would have said he was punctual. Jack could easily justify hiring Ianto. He just couldn't explain _why_ he'd done it.

Jack sometimes blamed the adrenaline from the unexpected flight, courtesy of a cranky dinosaur. Equally guilty was the rush of endorphins when Ianto's mid-quality suit fabric _shirrped_ as they rolled away and Ianto's breath plumed warm and smelled like currants. Jack had hired people, trusted them, followed them, died for them for the sake of lust and didn't mind admitting it. Halfway into a night at a pub Jack would easily claim he hired Ianto because he looked good in a suit. But it was more complicated than that, and Jack couldn't explain how.

He remembered eventually. He saw Ianto adjust his cuff while pouring a cup of coffee and the action was familiar in an unfamiliar way. Days later, Ianto sat with his legs dangling out of the SUV, leaning in to grab a gadget and Jack thought for a moment—

He didn't know what he thought beyond a clotted sense of déjà vu.

The next week Jack wrapped his hand around Ianto's wrist while in the shooting range and everything came back. Ianto raised an eyebrow at his sudden stillness so Jack scraped his thumbnail lightly against the pulse point; mumbled something slow and leered. Ianto rolled his eyes (his mouth dropped open just a tiny bit) and thought nothing more of it.

There was no question of firing Ianto after the incident with Lisa. Jack never considered it. He hired Ianto because he already had, and couldn't fire him because he hadn't yet. He didn't hesitate before pulling Ianto out of the water and kissing him because he'd already done that, too. And would later. He'd explain it better but he liked being enigmatic. Suffice it to say: this wasn't the first time that Jack met Ianto.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes in script form for the rest of the fic.

In 1941, the crew have to avoid Previous!Jack.

J: Ianto, go distract me.  
I: How?  
J: (rips Ianto's shirt open)  
I: Oh.

Ianto seduces (allows himself to be seduced by) Previous!Jack via a local drink; he sits on a low wall and leans over to get a cup, pours it for Previous!Jack. Ianto holds it out; Previous!Jack comes from behind and grasps his wrist; nuzzles his ear.

I: That was so weird.  
J: Did you enjoy yourself? (grin)  
I: (sideways stare)  
J: (unrepentant)  
I: Isn't this going to cause problems?  
J: Nope.  
I: Won't you recognize me when we meet again?  
J: You mean when we met before. (smirk)  
I: Jack.  
J: No, I won't slash didn't recognize you.  
I: Have we changed history, then?  
J: No, I just didn't remember you.  
I: You forgot that.  
J: Well, that was two hundred years ago for me! A lot happened before I met you again.  
I: Alright. We better start looking for a Rift opening.  
J: Ianto....  
I: I understand.  
J: It's not that you weren't memorable.  
I: I'm sure you remembered it for several years.  
J: About fifty years, actually, in brilliant detail. I thought of you when I was alone on the top of Mount Kilamanjaro. You know, frostbite's not a problem if you don't take it out of your pants. The mittens were something of an issue—  
I: I'll sweep the eastern half of the city, using the fountain as a dividing line. You take the west.  
J: Good plan.  
I: (starts to walk off)  
J: Ianto. (seriously)  
I: (turns back)  
J: Back then, you were just a pretty face. Now I know better.  
I: Thank you, Jack.


End file.
